


Lots of Lost Time

by Yessydo



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: First Time, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yessydo/pseuds/Yessydo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after his "death", Harry is reunited with Eggsy, who has some strong feelings on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lots of Lost Time

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone's headcanon seems to be that Valentine is a terrible shot, so I decided to jump on the "Harry's alive" bandwagon. Because why not?
> 
> Man, I cannot get enough of all these inappropriate mentor/mentee relationships!

_Check the body_ , Eggsy thought, staring slack-jawed at the man standing in the doorway of the tailor’s, _always check the fucking body_. He couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to him a year ago as he watched Valentine plug what should have been a fatal bullet into his mentor’s skull. What everyone, including the organization, including Eggsy himself, had been certain _was_ a fatal bullet up until this very moment. That was when he remembered that Valentine’s weak stomach had prevented him from going over to check Harry’s pulse, or at least make sure that his aim had been true. Clearly if he had, he would have seen that the bullet had only grazed its target, leaving the former Galahad - who was still standing there, no more than four feet away - with little more to show for the encounter than some puckered tissue by his right temple. 

“How may I help you, sir?” Asked Andrew the tailor, a little breathlessly. Harry strode confidently into the shop, directing a curt but friendly nod in Eggsy’s direction. The boy picked his jaw up off the floor and cleared his throat to speak, but Harry was already at the counter.

“I’d like to have a few suits altered,” he said, easily, “I’ve lost a bit of weight in recent months, you see.” Andrew nodded,

“Of course,” he replied, his voice reverent. Harry smiled politely and turned to leave, at which moment Eggsy managed to shake the cobwebs out of his brain and get his damn mouth to work again.

“What the fuck,” he demanded, loudly, “where the bloody hell have you been?” Harry’s face was even, the barest quirk of one eyebrow the only indication that he had even heard Eggsy’s outburst. Eggsy could feel his face heating up as he crossed the three steps between them. He didn’t have a plan for what would happen when he reached Harry, who clearly thought the young man was going to hit him, turning his injured side away slightly. Eggsy would later admit that even he was surprised when he found himself instead cupping a hand around each side of Harry’s face and pulling him into a crushing kiss. A relieved sort of anger coursed through him as he ran a hand over the uneven scar on Harry’s forehead. After a moment, it came to his attention that Harry was not kissing back. He was, in fact, standing completely stock still. When Eggsy pulled away, wiping his mouth and readjusting the set of his waistcoat, he noted that the older man’s expression had hardly even shifted. His glasses were slightly off-kilter and a few strands of hair had fallen onto his forehead, but he remained the picture of composure. 

"I, er..." Eggsy began, though he quickly abandoned any attempt at explanation. He glanced behind Harry at Andrew, whose gaze was dutifully averted.

“Eggsy,” Harry greeted, pleasantly if not a little cold, “how nice to see you again.” A pit opened up in Eggsy’s stomach and he stammered out some kind of apology, words coming so quickly they slurred into one long sound. He was surprised, then, when Harry laid a hand on his elbow and turned him toward the fitting rooms,

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, neither face nor voice betraying a hint of emotion, “there was something I had hoped to talk to you about.” 

 

Eggsy wasn’t sure how he was making his legs move. Fear bubbled up from his gut to the back of his throat. _He’s going to kill me_ , he thought, _he’s come back from the dead and now he’s going to fucking murder me_ , but when Harry closed the door to fitting room three - surely a deliberate choice - Eggsy found himself instead being swept up into a tight embrace, the late Galahad stroking a thumb up and down the back of his neck. 

“Harry,” he breathed, voice suddenly ragged. Harry pressed his face into the crook of Eggsy’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” his warm breath sent shivers down his protégé’s spine, “I’m so very sorry.” He pulled back, laying a hand on Eggsy’s cheek. Eggsy leaned into the touch, 

“I imagine you have questions,” Harry said, regaining his composure. Eggsy shrugged, still dazed,

“I just wanna know why.” Harry nodded, solemnly, taking a seat in a high-backed leather chair.

“Even after you and Lancelot thwarted Valentine’s scheme - expertly, I might add - it would have been unsafe for me to come out of hiding. The turmoil surrounding Arthur’s death, revelation of corruption within the organization, it would have been a mess. For both of us.” Eggsy nodded. Harry cracked a gentle smile, “That, and I still owe a hospital in Kentucky a great deal in fees.” That made Eggsy laugh, an earnest gasp of joy he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He found himself crossing the room to where Harry was sitting, leaning down on the arms of the chair so their faces were level.

“I missed you,” he admitted, pressing a chaste kiss to the older man’s lips. Harry kissed back this time, snaking a hand around the back of the boy’s neck to bring him closer. It wasn’t long until Eggsy found himself straddling Harry’s lap, hands running through the other man’s hair, his lips grasping needily at anything they could find. He felt Harry’s tongue run across his lower lip and gladly opened his mouth to let him in. He tasted like peppermint and the smoky suggestion of a good scotch. Eggsy tried and failed to suppress a moan that ran through his entire body. Harry finally broke the kiss, breathing heavy, his hands fisted in the blue wool of the younger’s jacket.

“Not here,” he insisted. Eggsy let out a sound that he hoped didn’t sound as much like a whine to Harry as it did to him. A smirk played across his features, “I didn’t say not at all,” he amended. Eggsy adamantly nodded his understanding, practically dragging his mentor out of the chair, fixing his hair for the outside world.

 

To Eggsy’s mild disappointment, Harry didn’t pin him against the wall the second they opened the door to his house. Instead they sat kitty-corner to one another around his dining room table drinking tea from surprisingly rustic-looking mugs. A million thoughts swirled around in Eggsy’s head, jamming in his throat and keeping him silent. This situation felt delicate, and Eggsy had already proven once today that he wasn’t in a state to be delicate. He was wound so tight he almost cried out when he felt Harry’s hand reach for his across the tabletop. He looked the other man in the face, his eyes bugging halfway out of his face. It was still so surreal to see him, to feel the warmth of their hands together. 

“I think we ought to talk,” Harry proposed, “it’s not wise to enter into congress without all parties’ expectations being clear.” Eggsy grinned, his shoulders relaxing. Seeing Harry’s unflappable pragmatism put him at ease. He quirked an eyebrow,

“Oh yes, Harry, I think so,” he agreed, his voice trained into a posh lilt, “one would hate to find oneself in an embarrassing situation.” 

“Eggsy,” Harry chided. Eggsy chuckled, turning his hand over and entwining their fingers,

“After everything you’ve put me through, I shouldn’t want this.” Harry’s lips formed a tight line, his gaze falling to the table, but then Eggsy was kissing him again, soft but insistent. 

“We’ve lost a lot of time this year, Harry,” he said when he pulled away, “I expect you to make it up to me.”

 

Harry was methodical even in bed, Eggsy marvelled. From the way he carefully hung his jacket on the back of his armchair to his hands roving across every inch of his former student’s skin, the pattern they drew followed closely by his lips. The sensation was driving Eggsy out of his mind, savouring every touch, trying to convince himself of the fact that Harry was _here_ , that this was real. It was so slow, so teasing, so light, that when Harry suddenly had Eggsy’s entire cock in his mouth he almost came from the shock alone.

“God Harry,” he moaned. It was clear he wasn’t going to last if Harry’s tongue kept up its swirling dance, “Please.” Harry let go, flashing a grin that could only be described as devilish, and kissed his way back up Eggsy’s torso. He leaned in close and whispered in his ear,

“Turn over,” he sunk his teeth gently into the crook of Eggsy’s neck, adding “if you would.” Eggsy got on his hands and knees as Harry searched for a small bottle of lubricant in his bedside drawer. 

“Have you done this before?” He asked. Eggsy smirked over his shoulder,

“Once or twice,” Harry nodded and began prizing him open. First one finger, then two, and finally a third, crooked just the right way to make the young man’s whole body quake.

“Harry, please,” he cried. Harry pushed inside, letting out an uncharacteristically raw moan that sent Eggsy’s stomach into knots. He let the boy adjust for a long, agonizing minute before starting to move in slow rhythm. As he quickened his pace, Harry leant forward, hands raking down Eggsy’s chest and whispering in his ear.

“Beautiful,” he panted, “so beautiful.” Eggsy’s vision whited out as he came, collapsing onto his elbows. Harry followed soon after, finishing in a few sure, powerful thrusts, his hand gripping Eggsy’s shoulder. They lay down together, Eggsy wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. He did feel thinner, more defined. He brought one hand up to stroke at the scar tissue along the man’s greying temple.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Eggsy.”

“If you ever get killed again, I’m gonna bloody murder you.”


End file.
